


A Dragon's Cave (is a Blanket Fort)

by CommonEvilMastermind



Series: Kid-Quisition [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blanket Forts, Drabbles, being a kid, sister!sera, uncle!varian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:50:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5300984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommonEvilMastermind/pseuds/CommonEvilMastermind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric is looking for the Kid. Unfortunately, Sera seems to have squirreled him away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dragon's Cave (is a Blanket Fort)

“Okay, Sera, where’s the kid?” Varric crossed his arms in the doorway of the tavern. Sera, arms full of bread and cheese, froze.

“Wha id?” she asked around a mouthful of food.

Varric scowled. “Very funny. Ruffles is in fits, and I think the Seeker is going to have a heart attack. Even Chuckles is looking worried! Well, more worried than usual.”

“Nuh-huh,” Sera sneered, swallowing. “Elfy doesn’t have _feelings.”_

“That’s a matter between you and him.” Varric rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “Sera, you can’t just kidnap the Child of Andraste and keep him squirreled away somewhere.”

“Can. Did. Am.” Sera nodded firmly. “And he’s not the Child of Andraste or whatever. Or maybe he is, but that’s for you yuckity-yucks to decide.”

“Now Sera, I’m hurt.” Varric put a hand to his heart. “I have never in my life been a yuckity-yuck.”

“Right. How much gold do you have, then? Wearing all those nice silk shirts? Used to live in Hightown, did you?”

“I lived at the Hanged Man, which is about as far from Hightown as you can get,” Varric grumbled. “But the point is, Sera, that we kind of need the kid. He’s the only one who can, you know, save the world? Patch all the holes in the sky? The ones spitting out all of the demons?”

“He doesn’t have to go and do that right now though, does he? What do you want him for anyways?” Sera scowled at him suspiciously.

“Putting aside the fact that it’s a good idea to keep track of him in case of demon attacks, Josephine needs to take him to Orlais. There’s an Enchanter there from the circle who wants to meet him. She could be a very powerful ally.”

“Piss,” Sera spat. “He just got back from scrubbing out the Storm Coast or whatever. He needs a chance to play.”

“I’m not arguing with you, Buttercup,” Varric sighed. “We just need to know where he is. Then we can tell Josephine that the little guy needs a break.”

Sera peered at Varric suspiciously. “On the straightway? Not gonna haul him off to go jigger some fancy in stupid pants?”

“Putting aside the fact that I don’t know what that means, yes. I’ll try to convince everyone to give him a break. The world might be ending – but you’re right, he’s just a kid.”

Sera gave Varric another long look, nodded once, and marched off without looking to see if the dwarf would follow. He did, muttering something dark under his breath.

To Varric’s surprise, Sera headed to the Chantry. She ducked into a servant’s hallway, where she opened a closet and tugged on something overhead, balancing her armload of food precariously. There was along screech as she pulled, and brought down a dusty, seldom-used ladder. “Right. This way, dwarfy.”

Varric followed Sera up the ladder, stopping to close the closet door behind him at her gesture. She scrambled up with full arms, dropping a cheese wheel on Varric’s head.

“Watch it, Buttercup,” Varric growled.

“Watch yourself, shorty,” she retorted.

They climbed up into a dusty attic, filled with bags and boxes. There was a small set of bare footprints on the floor, along with Sera’s larger ones. Varric followed Sera through the maze of crates – the attic was huge – to an odd-looking contraption. It was leaning against the central chimney of the Chantry, a mess of blankets strung between rafters and boxes, brooms, and strings. Almost like a tent.

Sera disappeared inside the blankets. “Hiya short-pants, found us some company.”

“Really?” Varian’s voice piped up from inside.

Varric stuck his head through the makeshift doorway. The thick blankets made warm walls, trapping the heat that came up from the central chimney. Somebody had used pins to stick paper stars to the ceiling, and the floor was covered in more blankets, pillows, and even an old mattress. Varian lay in the center of it all, wrapped up in a duvet, idly drawing on a piece of paper with a charcoal pencil. One of Varric’s, of course.

“Heya kid,” Varric said. “We were wondering where you went off to.”

“Varric!” Varian grinned. “Varric, look! Do you like our fort? Sara made it, Sera and me, and it’s so warm and look! We have blankets and pillows and food and lanterns - and all sorts of things!”

“It’s a pretty great place, kid.” Varric was more than a little impressed. “How did you find this attic, all the way up here?”

“I looked,” Varian said, his tone implying that it was obvious. “Wanna come in?”

“I’m going to go back down and tell everyone that you weren’t carried off by a giant eagle,” Varric told him. “And then, yeah. I’d like that, kid.”

“You can bring your story,” Varian told him. “And you can write while I draw. Or we can all tell funny stories.”

“Alright, I’m in. Be right back.”

“I’ll help you find the way down, dwarf,” Sera suggested suspiciously. Sure enough, when they were out of Varian’s hearing, she stopped and looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“You’re right,” Varric said. “Let me go talk to them.”

Sera nodded and left him. Going down the ladder, Varric thought idly about how he would convince the others. And how he might possibly bring Varian up some honey for his bread – and maybe some tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Varian the Lonely Dragon is coffeependulum's from tumblr! You should really go check out her art of Varian. It's ADORABLE.
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr too! You could talk to me, I bet we would be friends.


End file.
